Cracked
by Kinberuri
Summary: In an alternate universe, Ken is admitted to a mental hospital where he encounters and interesting cast of characters...


AN: Nyar.. I have no idea where this came from. n_n;; Alternate universe Digimon fic which takes place in a mental hospital when Ken/Dai and whatnot are somewhere in their mid to late twenties. This story has implications of Miyakari/Hiyako and some yaoi that I'll let you guess at. I'd rate it R because though it does have some rather mature themes, there's nothing you wouldn't see in a movie.  
  
(I swear the sequel to Mine and Soma is almost done. Please don't lynch mob me.)  
  
Warnings: Themes of suicide, rape, incest, self-mutilation and other such lovliness. Homosexuality and lack of Taichi and Yamato simply because I can't figure out how to fit them in. n_n;;  
  
  
****  
  
How many now? One... Two... Ten... Twelve... Twenty... He'd lost count somewhere but it didn't matter. The number didn't matter, all that mattered was they were gone, he was gone. Each one brought him closer to freedom. Each one and each mouthful of bitter alchohol made the world blur, made it slip away, made it fall through his fingers like sand, like the pills as he fumbled for them with increasing clumsiness. The alchohol spilled, the bottle spilled but he was oblivious to it by now. He didn't need it anymore, he didn't need anything anymore. All he needed was to sleep.   
  
Bright lights. Sirens. Hands, pain, movement. Voices. Shouting. Touching, more hands, pulling at clothing. Gagging. Wreching, vomitting. More light, too much light, hurting his eyes, hurting his head. Blurred motion all around him like in a dream. Faces without features, questions being asked but he could not or would not answer. Vommitting again, needles, invasion. Darkness.  
  
---  
  
"Mr. Ichijouji?"  
  
Sunken in violet eyes focussed on the secretary across the table, drawing him out of his trance-like state. Pale fingers holding a pen hovered over the paper on the table.  
  
"Just one more, right there."  
  
The eyes turned back to the paper, to the line where the tip of his pen was located over. The line that read "patient signature." He hesitated slightly before slowly signing his name.  
  
Ken Ichijouji.  
  
The secretary smiled kindly, taking the stack of paperwork from him to leaf through it briefly. "Looks like everything is in order," she said. "The nurse will be here shortly to show you around. And on the behalf of all the staff, welcome to Okunoin."   
  
Too cheerful. She made it sound like he'd just arrived at an amusement park of a luxury hotel. And while Ken didn't know exactly what to expect, signing himself in to a mental hospital, he had no expectations of amusement or luxury. He didn't bother to waste a smile on her, instead picking up his bag and returning to the waiting room.  
  
Falling into a chair, he sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. He didn't like it. He didn't like being here or the fact that he'd just signed over what little was left of his life to an orginazation he knew truly little about. But he had no choice.  
  
How did he get here, anyway? When did it all start? He couldn't remember... Everything was all fuzzy. It was well known that no, Ken Ichijouji was not the most light-hearted person around. But years ago that not-light-heartedness had somehow started to change and mutate until it turned into negativity and pain that festered in his soul. He didn't know how, nor did he try to reason about it. But somehow, somewhere along the way, his heart became diseased and with time died and all that was left was a shell of a person that feared the world.  
  
So when they asked why he had tried to kill himself, there was a simple answer. He was already dead, he was only a ghost and was trying to let himself let go of the corporeal world. As fate would have it, he was not allowed to do so. It was all going perfectly, so perfectly, but then his publicist decided on that night of all nights to find out why his client had dissapeared for a month.   
  
That was when he was pulled into this annoying world of psychobabble. He hated it all with a passion -- he had always felt patronized by therapists and detested the idea of someone else dictating his future. But when he'd heard his mother's heart broken sobs outside his hospital room, he was exposed to the realization that he was hurting others in the process of trying to purge himself and gave in when his psychiatrist reccomended a stay at Okunoin Mental Hospital.  
  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ichijouji," a soft femenine voice called him from his musing again and Ken lifted his head. A woman in a crisp uniform was standing in front of him, smiling faintly and Ken rose from his seat. "My name is Mimi Tachikawa, I'm the head nurse in the ward you'll be staying in. Come with me and I'll show you where you'll be staying."  
  
Ken silently followed the woman out of the administration building, a small suitcase in each hand. They crossed the well-kept grounds, Ken keeping in close step behind Nurse Tachikawa as they approached a large building that was set rather deep into the Okunoin property.   
  
"This is where you'll be staying," Nurse Tachikawa explained as she held the door open for Ken once they'd climbed the steps. A hall stretched before them at the end of which it opened up into a larger room and branched into two new hallways. "This is the rec room," she continued, indicating the large room which was occupied by several patients. A television was on in one corner and the rest of the room was dotted with couches and tables. "Over there is the nurse's station and the telephones." Ken glanced over at the area that looked something like a receptionist's desk and the red headed nurse behind it smiled at him.  
  
Tachikawa led him to the right of the two hallways. "The other one leads to the women's wing," she explained before stopping in front of a door and knocked quite briefly before opening it. The room was empty of occupants and Ken glanced around with reserve. There were two twin sized beds each with a dresser and a bedside table and a shelf attatched to the wall. One side of the room was littered with books and CDs and clothing, most of which was heaped on the bed. The same side's wall was decorated with photographs tacked to it. Meanwhile the opposite side was empty and sterile.   
  
The nurse turned to him with another of those warm smiles. "And this is your room," she said. "Your room mate agreed to show you around a little more so he should be by shortly. In the meantime, I'll leave you to unpack."  
  
"Thank you," Ken remarked quietly, placing his two suitcases on the clean bed. Tachikawa slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her as Ken opened the first travel bag to remove a framed photograph which he carefully placed on the top of the dresser. He folded his hands briefly out of habit before sitting down at foot of his bed with a gusty sigh.  
  
The boy in the photograph smiled at him, wild hair hanging helter skelter in his face and eyes. "I don't like this, Niisan," Ken murmered, suddenly feeling very tired. He didn't like being here already, he felt nervous and out of place. He wasn't crazy, he reasoned with himself. He wasn't like everyone else here. Just because he was hollow inside didn't make him insane...  
  
Ken found his body became heavy and he only wanted to sleep, just to lay down and rest... To stay there, to curl up beneath these unfamiliar bed sheets and not think about who and what awaited him outside that door. He looked back up at the photograph of his brother wearily and it continued to smile at him. Niisan wouldn't run away, he told himself. Osamu wouldn't want me to either...   
  
Mustering what little resolve was left in him, Ken pulled himself to his feet to start unpacking. The task didn't occupy him long and soon all the clothes and possessions he'd brought were put away, his clothes in the dresser and notebooks tucked safely in the bedside drawer. Now he had two options... Wait for his room mate to show up or go out there and have a look around on his own. The former sounded more appealing, it would give him the excuse to rest but he didn't like either option. He didn't like the idea of being trapped in this little room any more than he liked the idea of facing what lay outside it.  
  
In the end, curiosity more than anything won him over and he found himself poised with his hand over the doorknob. The next step would be into a new world, an entirely new world.. And he was afraid of it. Afraid of everything beyond that door, the patients and the nurses and the doctors and the medication... Everything. But the raw truth was that he was also afraid of what lay behind those as well. The whole world, everything outside enclosed walls, it all frightened him. People overwhelmed him, crowds smothered him. And he was tired of hiding, tired of being afraid and dead inside.   
  
Maybe to not be afraid anymore required a little jump start of courage...  
  
His hand turned the knob and the door slowly swung open. Equally slowly, Ken stepped into the hall and with little place else to go, turned to the way he'd come in and went to the rec room. That red headed nurse at the desk smiled at him again even as he this looked around the room with contained unease. The television droned on, displaying a game show which a few patients were calling out inexplicably incorrect answers to. In another corner, a young man sat in a chair, his arms folded and he shot Ken a glare which he immediately turned his eyes from.   
  
Sighing softly, he found a seat on the opposite end of a couch where a young woman was seated. She was young, probably Ken's own age, in her mid twenties and pretty despite her ragged appearance. She was dressed in a hospital gown and her light brown hair was mussed and unkempt. Red-brown eyes stared vacantly straight ahead without appearing to notice Ken's arrival. The girl's arms were bandaged in several places, gauze and medical tape securely fastened to them. Between the white of the bandages, pink ribbon scars were visable. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap and she still seemed to take no notice of Ken even when he sat down and produced a package of ciggarettes from his back pocket.  
  
Realizing that he had no lighter as it had been removed from his person upon his arrival at the hospital, he sighed in annoyance but then suddenly that red headed nurse appeared and was lighting the ciggarette in his hand. "I'm Sora Takenouchi," she said, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Ken."  
  
Ken eyed her for a moment, taking a breath from the cigarette. "Thank you," he said simply and she nodded and left. With a gust, he exhaled and watched the smoke waft away.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, Ken saw the girl at the other end of the couch stiffen very slightly and her eyes widened and then slowly turned in his direction as though she'd just realized he was there. Expressionless, she studdied him askance and then her head tilted ever so slightly. Ken watched her silently without making eye contact and focussing on his smoke. Her eyes turned ahead again and she stroked the back of her hand with the fingers of the other, running her fingertips over old scars. And then she spoke.  
  
"There's a darkness in you," she said very softly, almost to where he couldn't hear her. She said nothing else, simply continued running her fingers over her scars.   
  
Ken exhaled again, turning his eyes away from her only to meet the glare of that blonde haired man in the corner and turn back. "I guess so," he said equally softly. "That's why I'm here."  
  
Her deep brown eyes turned on him completely and sent a chill down his body. She looked at him sadly, lids slightly hooded. "They can't fix that here," she said, still speaking softly. "There's only one person who can fix that... Otherwise the darkness will eat you... It will..." Her voice cracked and Ken watched as she wrapped her arms around herself. "There's only one thing that can save us, one person..." Her voice dropped to a tiny whisper. "Miyako-chan..."   
  
"OI!"  
  
jumped in surprise as someone popped up behind the girl, a man with wild mohogany hair that was kept up by a pair of goggles wrapped around his head. The man examined him, grinning broadly, brown eyes glinting. "Oi, Hikari-chan, who's your new friend?"   
  
The girl glanced at him, looking rather upset and shrugged slightly, turning from him only to find herself facing Ken. She made a small whimpering sound until the man flopped down on the couch between them, allowing her to turn away and huddle in the corner of the couch.   
  
The auburn haired man continued to study him closely and Ken began to feel uncomfortable at how close he was but feigned indifference, briefly eyeing him and then looking away. "Shouldn't smoke, you know. It'll kill yah," the man piped up.  
  
If only it were so easy, was Ken's fleeting thought before he stubbed out what little was left of the cigarette in a nearby ashtray. The man seemed appeased and grinned.  
  
voice spoke up from across the room, from the blonde man who'd been watching the whole scene. "Quit harrassing people, Motomiya."  
  
"The day you quit harrassing me, Takaishi, I will," the dark skinned man replied easily.   
  
Attempting to detatch himself from what was happening around him, Ken's attention wandered to a figure that entered the room, a remarkably young looking doctor. The young man must have been at least five years younger than himself, not any more than twenty-one but he was clad in a white lab coat with a stethescope around his neck and a clip board in hand. He was interesting looking -- an odd mix of customary and exotic with slanted striking green eyes and light brown hair that was neatly kept in a clean bowl cut.  
  
Ken watched as the doctor was approached by Sora and seemed to recieve a scolding before he begrudgingly had his stethescope and jacket removed and he dejectedly made his way toward the group that was assembling around Ken.   
  
pay any attention to him," the blond who the other man had referred to as Takaishi said, referring to the dubbed 'Motomiya'. "Daisuke's so fucked up he doesn't know whether he's coming or going." Takaishi shot a malicious sneer at the begoggled man beside Ken at whom Ken glanced a bit nervously.   
  
"Are you two at it again?" It was that doctor that had just been derobed. Or perhaps he wasn't a doctor after all; now he was dressed in slacks and a white dress shirt but he still held the clip board tightly. He approached the impending scene with a hint of scolding in his serious voice. "Dr. Izumi will not be pleased if you start this again! I don't want to have to write you up!"  
  
"Stay out of this, Iori," Takaishi snapped, glaring at the younger man who eyed him back evenly.  
  
"Least I'm not fucked cause my brother fucked me," Daisuke put in with a snide smirk in Takaishi's direction.   
  
Takaishi's glance snapped back to the auburn haired man and his body stiffened, face turning an unpleasant shade of red. "You shut the fuck up, Motomiya!" Threateningly he leaned in toward Daisuke, a fist clenching. Unphazed, the one on the couch smirked again and ran his tongue over his top lip in a grossly suggestive manner. This appeared to push Takaishi over the edge and Ken cringed away as the blond hauled Daisuke up by his shirt and slammed him up against the wall.  
  
"Takeru! Stop! This'll be in my report to Dr. Izumi, you can bet on it!" Takaishi paid no attention to Iori who made a feeble attempt to split the two apart. The fact was that both of them were much larger and stronger than the young 'doctor' and there was little he could do.  
  
"You think you're so cute?" Takeru growled into Daisuke's face, holding him up so that he was on tip-toe with his back shoved against the wall. "You think you're a little slut? When I get through with you, you won't remember the meaning of the words!"  
  
"Takeru! Enough!" Though he'd been watching the fight, wide-eyed, Ken glanced over his shoulder as a blond in uniform ran over.  
  
"Waaaiii!" Daisuke suddenly squealed with delight, even in Takeru's death grip. "Wallace-chan's come to save me!"  
  
The blond orderly managed to pry Takeru away from his victim and Daisuke promptly attatched himself to his rescuer. Wallace led Daisuke back to his seat between the girl and Ken, sitting him down and saying, "Daisuke, please sit and calm down, okay?"  
  
"Hai! Whatever you say, Wallace-chan," the begoggled patient replied happily and Wallace pried his hand away from Daisuke's to turn his attention to an unhappy looking Takeru.  
  
With one eye, Ken watched the calm begoggled man beside him and with the other, watched as the orderly spoke with hushed words to Takeru who first looked terribly angry and then stalked off toward the men's ward. A glance around revealed Daisuke to be appearantly unphazed by the expirience. Meanwhile Iori was writing furiously on his clip board and the girl, Hikari as Daisuke had called her, didn't seem to have taken any notice of the situation; she was still curled up unhappily in the corner of the couch.   
  
Ken himself wa more than a little dazed by what had just taken place and was past thinking it would have been a better idea to wait for his room mate. He only half heard as Daisuke addressed him again.  
  
"And that is why you don't fuck with Takeru," he was saying. "Now, if he tells you to call him TK, then you've got nothing to worry about. TK is quite agreeable but a little on the sensitive side."  
  
Realizing that Daisuke was talking to him, Ken shook himself enough to turn his attention on the auburn haired man. "TK?"  
  
"TK is Takeru's other personality," he explained conversationally and then paused only half a moment to let this sink in. "Who are you?"  
  
"My name is Ichijouji Ken," the indigo haired man replied slowly, cautiously eyeing the other. A dark skinned hand was thrust at him and he hesitently shook it.   
  
"Motomiya Daisuke," the other put in and Ken nodded to him sagely before rising to his feet. "Oi! Matte yo; where are you going?"  
  
"Back to my room," Ken responded. "My room mate is supposed to meet me there soon."  
  
"I'll walk with you!" Daisuke said cheerfully, jumping to his feet. In all truth, the idea wasn't the most appealing to Ken -- this Daisuke was so... bubbly. It was rather unnerving. But he said nothing, only offered another sage nod and turned for the hallway. On the way out of the room, Daisuke ruffled Hikari's hair slightly and she whimpered in response, still curled up in the corner of the couch with her knees hugged to her chest.  
  
Ken glanced at the shorter man as he jogged up beside him and fell into step. "Why did you know so much about that man?" he asked softly.  
  
"Who? Takeru?" Daisuke shrugged and donned a garish grin. "I know things around here. You want to know something about someone, you come to me." The grin broadened. "It's mostly because Wallace-chan is in love with me!" A slim indigo brow was lifted calmly in his direction, causing Daisuke to titter nervously. "Okay, it's mostly because I'm good at eavesdropping on nurses."  
  
"That girl..."  
  
"Hikari-chan? Schizophrenic, they say. She was normal enough until her 'domestic partner' as they put it died in a plane crash. She totally lost it after that." The goggled man cast a sharp glance at Ken. "Don't mess with Hikari, either. Everyone loves her around here and Takeru and I would pummel you."  
  
"And the doctor?"  
  
"Not a doctor," Daisuke replied. "Iori's one of the very few that I don't know the story on... All I know is he either thinks he's a doctor or prefers to act like one rather than a patient. Be warned, you do anything out of line around him and it'll go straight to Izumi."  
  
"One more question..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What's with the goggles?"  
  
The auburn haired man stopped walking suddenly, a soft sigh escaping him. "Well... You see, when I was younger and my grandfather was in the hospital on his death bed, we were visiting him and he called me over and told me, "Daisuke-chan, there is something for you on my nightstand at home in a cherrywood box. I want you to never forget who you are or what you stand for." And then he died right there in front of me... I went home and found the goggles he'd worn when he fought in the war and I've been wearing them since." A nostalic smile crossed his face and Daisuke continued on his way.  
  
Ken watched the retreating form with a certain air of skeptecism, thin brows quirked. "Motomiya-san?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why are *you* here?"  
  
"Well, they tell me I'm here because I'm bipolar with severe manic tendencies. And..." Daisuke looked over his shoulder and flashed a grin at the man behind him. "I'm a compulsive liar." Again, he continued down the hall.  
  
Ken shook his head and followed the begoggled man until they reached his room where he turned to Daisuke. "This is my room," he said simply and waited for Motomiya to leave. When he made no indication of doing so, Ken shot him a questioning glance.  
  
"This is my room, too."  
  
end ch.1 


End file.
